Words of a Songbird (Revised)
by The Mistress of Shadow Dragons
Summary: "I knew that if we survived this Maker-damned Blight, I was going to ask for her hand in marriage." A one-shot told from the perspective of everyone's favorite ex-templar.


**Yes! I'm not dead! XD *clears throat* Well, anyway. Now that that announcement is out of the way, this is the first time that I've ever written for something that isn't Pokemon or Mortal Kombat related. I don't play any RPG's outside of the aforementioned series above and Kingdom Hearts, but when I played through Dragon Age Origins for the first time, I immediately fell in love with Alistair! He's charming, funny and I just wish that I had played the original PC version instead of the crappy PS3 port. : /**

 **But, anyway. Here's a one-shot (** ** _again, another first_** **) that I've practically been slaving over a hot laptop for the past couple of months, and I hope that it's somewhat decent. And if it's not, you guys will let me know in a review, right?**

 _ **~Words of a Songbird~ (A Dragon Age Origins One-Shot)**_

* * *

The Maker truly does work in mysterious ways.

When I had first joined the order of the Grey Wardens around six months ago, I faithfully served under King Cailan's benevolent rule as I helped to battle against the horrors of the darkspawn threat as they slowly, but, surely, made their way north to Ostagar.

However, now that I think about it, had Duncan never recruited me before I could take my vows and become a fully fledged templar, I would have never met and fallen in love with the most amazing woman that has ever graced the Maker's blessed earth.

And for that, I was grateful.

There was just something about her fun-loving personality that attracted me to her when we first met.

When her pet mabari hound, Hunter, lies in her lap, when she hugs him around his thick neck and he gently licks her cheek, the warmth in her eyes is the same warmth that courses through me, as if I had eaten my favorite broth on a cold winter's day.

As I watch her dance from behind a tree one night when everyone else in the camp had already gone to sleep, my cheeks burn a dark scarlet when I notice the more...sensual movements that she reserves for private use, and as her dark skin glows radiantly in the silvery moonlight, I feel the depths of my soul stir from her performance.

In what is the kind smile that graces her soft, kissable lips when someone is in need of help one moment will quickly turn into a ferocious snarl in another when she aggressively pounces on a ogre that is twice her size, and when she ends his life with only a few swift strikes of the twin daggers that were forged from the scales of a adult drake, Ophelia and Olivia, I was honestly rendered speechless by the masterful display.

Even Wynne, being mischievous at her age, once commented on my hazel gaze as it drifted towards her womanly hips as they swayed in a seductive manner while we were on a expedition in the Deep Roads in a playful jest.

Besides, it may or may not have been a brief glance in that direction for only half of a second.

But, I'm getting off track.

As I gently cradled the rose that I had picked back in Lothering some time ago, I felt my heart thrum a little faster underneath my rib-cage as color quietly stained my cheeks.

That woman was such a rare and beautiful find amidst the death and destruction.

When the leader of our little entourage had first been inducted into the Grey Wardens, her eyes, which I noticed shone like lifeless jade as they hid behind a thin veil of swollen puffiness from crying, even though I figured that they sparkled like glittering emeralds when the light hit them at just the right angle, and later, when I rounded up the other recruits that were going to be joining us in a reconnaissance mission in the Korcari Wilds, I learned from Duncan that she had barely escaped with her life when that treacherous bastard, Howe, secretly organized the massacre of Castle Cousland; her friends and family gruesomely slaughtered like animals unbeknownst to the teryn and teryna of Highever.

So, before we were expected to leave, I made the conscious decision to make her day a bit brighter, so as I lifted her spirits with my lighthearted antics, which in turn put a pretty smile on her face as she laughed, I sincerely hoped that I could keep her mind off of the horrific circumstances that forced her to join our proud and noble Order as its newest recruit, even if it was for only a little while.

I also embarrassingly admit that I developed a small crush of sorts on her during those first few weeks.

And even now, as a year has passed by, after all of the time that we've spent together, I could no longer deny my feelings for my fellow Grey Warden.

Tonight, I was going to tell Elizabeth Marie Cousland that I had fallen head over heels in love with her.

As my objective laid out before me, a familiar ink-tipped snout gently poked in between the flaps of my tent before the hound that it belonged to quietly scampered inside and lied down on my lap.

"Hello, Hunter," I greet warmly as I softly scratch the mabari behind his furry ears. "Let me guess. Your mistress wants to see me?"

A quiet yip answered my question.

"Ah, perfect timing. Well, then. We shouldn't keep our beautiful leader waiting. Shall we be off?" I state in a semi-serious manner.

As Hunter lifted his head off of my lap, a quiet bark of agreement sounded from his fang-filled maw before his sharp, amber gaze became fixated upon the rose that I had been fiddling with and his stubbed tail began to wag happily.

"Hmm...Oh, this?" I question as I gaze down at the rose; my cheeks now burning a darker shade of scarlet. "It's nothing, really. I'm just going to give this to your mistress to tell her how special I think she is."

As another bark of agreement met my sensitive ears, as I felt Hunter nudge his cold, wet snout behind me to get me to move, my only coherent thought as I was being ushered out of my tent, was that in only a few short moments, I was going to face the soon to be love of my life and tell her how I truly felt.

* * *

Once Hunter and I made our way across the campsite, as we approached the leader of our little dysfunctional family, I noticed that she was quietly gazing into the crackling embers of the fire-pit from her perch on a fallen log and it was then that I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

"Good evening, Alistair," my fellow Grey Warden answers softly; my name sounding like silk on her tongue as her chocolate hair, which was cut short and rested against the base of her slender neck, swayed quietly in the pleasant nighttime breeze as a serene smile lit up her pretty face like the stars that loomed over us. "How are you this evening?"

When pools of hypnotic emerald found magnetic hazel as she asked me that one, simple question, I found that I couldn't tear my gaze away from her.

Not that I wanted to, anyway.

 _By the Maker's breath, how did this woman become so damned beautiful_?

"I'm fine, Elizabeth," I answered quietly. "How are you?"

"I am fine as well. Thank you for asking," Elizabeth responded in a light, airy voice.

While I was distracted, I didn't even notice that Hunter left me so he could get attention from his mistress as he wriggled into her lap; his golden-brown fur gently illuminated by the quiet glow of the dancing flame.

I suppose it was just the act of witnessing this kind, gentle woman befriending someone and putting a smile on their face without even trying that made my heart soar like a fearsome dragon.

Other times, however...

She could be such a naughty little vixen when she felt like it.

And of course, aside from the fact that she was incredibly beautiful, she was also a beacon of hope for the other members of our little ragtag group of mages, warriors and rogues – someone for them to find solace in when they felt like they were spiraling down a dark path.

Even that heartless she-harpy, Morrigan, secretly confided in her from time to time.

"Thank you for retrieving our silly friend for me, Hunter," Elizabeth's hypnotizing voice sounded into the night as she gently wrapped a bare arm around her beloved mabari's thick neck; resting her cheek against his forehead as a quiet smile formed on her lips. "You can go lay down, now."

As Hunter barked softly; acknowledging his mistress's request with an almost human-like level of intelligence, as I watched him trot over to her tent, when he lied down and rested his head on his large paws, he kept one sharp eye trained on me to watch and see if I would act outside of my teachings of behaving like a gentleman in the presence of a lovely woman when I was growing up in the Chantry.

After a moment of silence passes between us, my fellow Grey Warden's inquisitive emerald gaze falls on the rose that I was holding onto, and she asks me curiously "Oh, Alistair. That's a lovely rose that you have there. Were you planning on giving it to someone in the camp?"

As I look down at the flower that I was thankfully able to save from the darkspawn's corrupted taint, the quiet heat from before seemed to intensify tenfold as I take a seat next to Elizabeth on the log and reply in a somewhat sly tone "Yes, actually. And here I thought that you were a Grey Warden, not a mind-reading gypsy."

As Elizabeth playfully rolled her eyes at me, when I gently pushed the de-thorned rose into her hand, surprise quietly flitted across her face like a shadow, and when nimble fingers toyed with velvety petals to make sure that they were real, I felt a soft chuckle rumble deep within the confines of my throat.

"Thank you for the sentiment, Alistair. You're very sweet," the leader of our entourage breathes softly as she holds the rose closer to her bosom, disbelief quickly giving way to humility. "But, why did you choose me? I'm no one special."

"Oh, but, Elizabeth. That isn't true at all," I quietly interject as I boldly place my hand over hers; giving it a gentle squeeze. "It seems that wherever we go, you always manage to positively influence someone's life in one way or another, and all without asking for a reward in return. Now, how can you say that that isn't special?"

As I notice Elizabeth turn away from me; hooded eyes gently lowering as a small smile spread across her lips and heat quietly surged into her own dark cheeks to paint them a rather dazzling shade of scarlet, I knew right then that if we survived this Maker-damned Blight, I was going to ask for her hand in marriage.

As we sit near each other, just silently gazing at the stars, I let go of her hand to tie the rose into strands of melted chocolate, and when I feel her lithe, agile body lean against me, a content sigh sounds through lightly parted carnation painted lips when her warm cinnamon skin gently presses against chilled leather, and it was then that I truly felt myself at a conundrum.

" _What in the seven hells is this woman doing to me?"_ I wondered as I felt my heartbeat thrum even faster beneath my rib-cage.

"Thank you for always being there for me when I need you, Alistair," I hear Elizabeth mumble against me. "I don't deserve to have a friend like you."

" _She doesn't deserve to have me_?" I thought incredulously.

No, madam.

It is I who does not deserve to be in the presence of your radiant beauty.

But, I digress.

"You're welcome, Elizabeth," I answer as I hold her closer to me. "You know, your speeches inspire us and help to guide us to victory. Oh, and not just that. When you smile, when anyone who's had a bad day looks in your direction, they can feel their spirits being lifted and their day becomes just a bit more brighter. And, really. Who I am to disagree with someone who has been blessed with such amazing gifts?"

Flatterer," Elizabeth compliments as she looks at me through half-closed caramel blankets.

"Well, what can I say? I've been somewhat of a hopeless romantic ever since I was asked to wear a dress as part of a losing bet with my brothers-in-arms when I was still in the Chantry," I answer cheekily.

"No. Really?" my songbird asks incredulously when she sits in an upright position, as if she didn't believe what I was telling her. "You were actually asked to wear a dress? Now, that's a story that I want to hear."

"Hmm...another night maybe, when I've had some ale in me," I answer mysteriously as I wink at her in a teasing fashion. "I do have one condition, however."

"Okay," Elizabeth answers quietly. "What is the condition?"

"You let me treat you to a private dinner at the Gnawed Noble when we return to Denerim," I smoothly reply. "You know, to thank you for treating me like a regular guy instead of a bastard prince that was born out of wedlock."

"Well, when you phrase it like that, how can I say no?" my songbird gently answers.

"So, then, does that mean that it's...a date?" I ask with almost a bit too much enthusiasm in my voice as my hazel eyes light up in excitement.

"Yes, Alistair. It's a date," my princess sweetly responds as she giggles softly.

Feeling as if though I could jump over the moon in that one moment, as I quickly calmed my inner thoughts, I notice from out of the corner of my eye that the honeyed smile that formed on Elizabeth's lips only a moment ago now is now pursed as she becomes lost in thought, and I ask in concern "Elizabeth, are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," my emerald eyed goddess replies truthfully. "It's just that, lately, the apprehension that has settled in the pit of my stomach has steadily been growing worse more-so now than it has in the past six months whenever my thoughts turn back to the Blight. Alistair, what is going to happen to our beloved Fereldan if we fail in our mission?"

"You mean, if an Old God in the form of a ravenous dragon with a penchant for blood-lust suddenly decides that the rest of humanity deserves to be eradicated from the face of the earth?" I ask in a somewhat quizzical manner. "Hmm...I don't know. But, what I do know is that it won't do you any good to think like that."

"Well, yes. I know that," Elizabeth answers in a short, clipped tone. "But, I can't help it. And I'm sure that you've felt like that on some days too, I bet."

"Well, now that you mention it, I actually have been feeling a bit on the aggressive side lately," I answer truthfully. "But, that's not to say that I don't channel that aggression into doing something more productive. Because, I can assure you, I do."

"Oh, I know," my songbird reassures me. "I know all too well."

Ah, I know what she's referring to.

The night that I verbally abused her.

Maker damn it.

And just when I though that I had forgotten all about that horrible memory.

I can never seem to catch a break, can I?

* * *

 _We had just returned to the camp from our week-long journey to Redcliffe. Everyone in the traveling party was exhausted and our leader had been unbearably quiet for most of the trip, only stopping to offer help to anyone who needed it._

 _So, after supper was finished, I patiently waited for everyone else to begin settling down for the evening before I pulled Elizabeth aside so we could talk by the giant willow tree, away from the wandering earshot of our little entourage._

 _I don't know what came over me, but when I brought up the demise of Lady Isolde in our conversation, the anger that had been bubbling deep in the pit of my stomach the entire trip back had finally boiled over._

" _Damn it, Elizabeth!" I growled lowly. "Surely, there could have been another way to save Connor's life without sacrificing his poor mother to filthy blood magic! What in the name of the Maker's green earth were you thinking?!"_

" _Yes, Alistair. I know," Elizabeth lightly argues back; a defiant flame quietly burning in her intelligent emerald eyes. "But, what do you want me to tell you? That I should have killed a child in cold blood? You? Of all people? Are you actually being serious right now?!"_

 _At this point, my brain was practically screaming at me to stop talking._

 _But, of course, my mouth blatantly refused to listen to reason, and before I could stop myself, I found myself voicing what was really on my mind._

" _You know, I owe Arl Eamon more than just my life. He brought me into his home and he became the father that I needed, seeing as that my biological father didn't give a damn about being in my life when I was a babe. He gave me a place where I could rest my head at night. He kept me clothed and fed and he even provided me with a good education until I turned ten. He didn't have to show me, a little bastard, such kindness. But, he did. And now, what do I have to show him for repaying his generosity? Nothing. Nothing, except to confess that we allowed a blood mage to cast that disgusting ritual and his beloved wife is now dead," I ground out in a frustrated tone._

" _But, Alistair. Don't you remember? Everyone in the party unanimously decided that it would be best if we performed the ritual. You know, to spare Connor from any future pain and suffering?" Elizabeth bit back; her melodious voice rising an octave above its normally pleasant tone. "Why are you acting like a child about this?"_

" _Excuse me?" I argued back; my own voice rising to match hers in temperament. "I'm acting like a child? After I warned you about the potential dangers of using blood magic in the first place? Who are you to criticize me when you know nothing of me?!"_

 _And soon after, our little disagreement had devolved into nothing more than a quiet, yet heated shouting match; neither one of us willing to back down as we continued to hurl hurtful comments back and forth at each other out of both spite and stubbornness._

 _And to this day, I still haven't forgiven myself for what I said._

" _Your father was right in his decision to abandon you as a babe! You are such a pompous, spoiled jack-arse who acts like a whining brat when things don't go his way!"_

" _As if you're any better! You're a selfish harlot who deserved to die with the rest of her family so she would have never brought her misfortune upon the Grey Wardens!"_

 _It was then that I felt my heart stop the moment those horrid words left my mouth._

 _As I try to apologize; knowing damn well that I couldn't take back what I said, couldn't make the tense atmosphere between us any less painful, when I feel a sharp, swift strike to my cheek when she slaps me, when I notice the expression that formed on my princess's face, I honestly wanted to throw myself from off of the highest bridge._

 _A wildfire that burned within intelligent emerald eyes had all but been snuffed out as glassy tears streamed down dusky cheeks. Pearly white teeth clenched painfully and her head hung low as she wrapped her arms around herself; quiet sobs wracking her curvaceous figure like fragile leaves in the wind._

 _Why in the name of the Maker was I such a fucking idiot?_

" _Why?" Elizabeth whispered in a broken voice as she hiccuped. "Why would you ever...say something like that to me, Alistair? What, it wasn't enough that my family was stolen away from me by Howe, but now you wish that I were dead? I don't understand. Do you...really hate me that much?"_

" _No, Elizabeth. That's not it. I could never hate you," I try to explain as I nurse my stinging cheek; "But, you have to understand, I-"_

" _STOP!" My princess screams at me before her voice recedes into a empty, defeated tone, more-so than I had ever heard it as the pain in her beautiful emerald eyes steadily worsens. "Just...stop. I don't want to hear anything else that you have to say. Please. Just...go away."_

 _As I begin to reach out and comfort her; knowing that it would have only been a futile attempt to repair what I knew would be the now strained relationship between us, I think better of it, and as I make my way back to my tent to soothe my anger and my frustration in private, from out of the corner of my eye, I notice that Elizabeth sinks to her knees and hugs herself tighter as the quiet tremors from before become more violent as she cries until she has no more tears left to cry._

 _And I was, as she so eloquently put it, the "jack-arse" that talked to and made her feel like she was less than nothing._

 _How could I ever call myself a man again after what transpired tonight?_

 _And as if the timing couldn't have been worse, Hunter, in response to his mistress's distress, came running to her aid, and within moments, as he laid his head on her lap, a low whine rumbled deep in his throat as he comforted her as best as he could._

 _As the image of an utterly broken leader and the dark, murderous look that her faithful mabari companion gave me as he bared his lethally sharpened fangs burned itself into my mind, I solemnly swore that I would never again let anger and frustration cloud my judgment, never belittle or demean her. No. I had to remember that she was a fighter, and despite impossible odds being placed against her, she survived._

 _She survived and she was going to leave one hell of a mark on the world._

 _I just hoped that we were both going to live long enough to see that dream become a reality._

* * *

As intelligent verdant eyes become downcast as they quietly stare into the fire-pit, Elizabeth suddenly asks me in a quiet voice "Alistair, if you were going to die tomorrow, what would be your one regret?"

"My one regret?" I repeat as I tap a finger against the light stubble on my chin; my mind settling on the obvious answer to the question. "Hmm...Well, if I were going to die tomorrow, I would have to say that my only regret...would be that I never got the chance to tell my friend, who I've become quite close to in the past year, that I've fallen in love with her."

"Oh, I see," my princess answers in a gentle voice, as if she could somehow sense that I was talking about her. "Is she...pretty?"

"Well, yes. I would say that she's pretty. Beautiful, even," I reply honestly as I lightly scratch my cheek. "In fact, you may already know her."

"Do I?" Elizabeth asks curiously as she willingly plays along. "Hmm...I don't know. I would need a description of what your friend looks like before I can tell you if I know her or not, don't you think?"

"Oh, yes. Of course," I begin as a small, confident smirk crosses my lips. "Well, when my friend smiles, the thin layer of freckles that lightly dusts the bridge of her nose crinkles in the most adorable fashion. She also has hair that's carved from indulgent chocolate and really pretty emerald eyes that shine with intelligence and warmth. She's kind and gentle and she seems to attract people, good or bad, to her wherever she goes. And although she was expected to die alongside her family in these dark times, she survived and she fought back with everything that she had. She's a real inspiration to the people of Fereldan, I'll tell you what."

"Interesting," Elizabeth gently comments as the scarlet flush in her sun-kissed cheeks burns darker. "So, if what you're saying is true, then I may indeed know who your friend is."

When my princess gingerly points towards herself to confirm that she was the woman that I had fallen in love with, I quietly nod with an embarrassed flush in my own cheeks as I ask "So, now that you know, I was wondering if I could have your hand in courtship."

When Elizabeth doesn't say anything to let me know if she accepted my offer, I ask "Of course, if you're not ready to begin a relationship, then that's perfectly fine as well. Just please say something."

And soon after I formed that sentence, a pair of soft, full lips that tasted sweetly of cherries gently crashes into my own as our fearless leader leans up to kiss me and I return the kiss with as much fervor as I could muster.

"Oh, Alistair, you silly goose," Elizabeth giggles softly when she pulls away from me. "If I didn't accept your offer, I wouldn't have kissed you, now would I?"

"Oh. Okay. Well, that's good," I joke in a lighthearted manner as I breathe a sigh of relief. "For a moment there, I thought that you had politely declined. I don't think my poor heart could have handled the rejection if that had happened."

As Elizabeth rolls her beautiful emerald eyes in a playful manner, a quiet yawn escapes from her notice, and as she nuzzles into my side, warm and content, a lovely smile forms on her lips as I place a gentle kiss against her temple before I gently lift her into my arms.

"Alistair, stop!" Elizabeth quietly laughs as she holds on to me for dear life; my light stubble gently tickling her cheek. "Put me down this instant!"

"Oh, but, Elizabeth. That simply will not do," I jest as I act as if we were newly wed. "It is on my honor as a prince to escort his fair princess to her bedchamber. So, with that being said, let us be off."

As I walked to my soulmate's tent, I felt her nuzzling under my neck and I quietly returned her affections, and when we approached, Hunter, in his silent wisdom, gave a quiet bark of approval to let me know that he was giving me his blessing to court his mistress.

Although, he had no problem with flashing his incredibly lethal fangs as they glinted dangerously in the moonlight, and I nodded quietly in understanding.

As I ducked inside the twin flaps of the tent and gently lowered Elizabeth into her bedroll, she gently responds as her hooded eyelids begin to grow heavy "You know, when I was a little girl, I grew up on the stories that my father used to tell me of the Grey Wardens and their gallant griffon mounts; their pristine white feathers glowing in the sunlight as they rode to victory. And as cliché as it is to say it, I always imagined myself as the princess who gets locked away in the tower and a handsome prince on a majestic winged mount slays the ferocious fire-breathing dragon before he rescues me and we fly away into the sunset. Heh, and now it seems that after twenty years, I finally get my wish."

"Well, I can only hope that I live up to your expectations, my love," I chuckle as I remove the rose from my beloved's hair and place it next to her on her pillow.

And then, as fingers that became callous from wielding a sword for several years quietly caresses the soft mocha skin of my fair princess's cheek, I place a gentle kiss against her forehead, and she smiles sleepily at me as a result.

As I turn to leave, Elizabeth drowsily calls out to me "Good night, Alistair. I love you," and as a affectionate smile graces my lips, I gently reply "I love you, too, Elizabeth. With everything that I am."

And then, as the sound of gentle snoring filled the tent as the fearless leader of our merry band of misfits got the rest that she so desperately needed, I heard the wind whistle to me when I re-emerged, and when Hunter looked up at me with his questioning amber gaze; a quiet bark of happiness sounded from his feral lips as his warm, wet tongue lolled playfully.

"Well, boy. I did it," I replied nonchalantly as I look down at the stocky canine who was keeping watch outside his mistress's tent. "Now that your mistress and I are together, we're going to stand up to whatever challenges await us in this new chapter in our lives."

And as I said that, I was certain that my overactive imagination was playing pranks on me again.

Because I surely didn't just imagine Hunter rolling his surprisingly calculating honey colored eyes at me as another quiet bark, this time of reassurance, sounded from his lips.

Yes, it was just the exhaustion talking.

"You know, I like to think that you're just fooling everyone, and you can actually speak when no one is around to listen," I jest playfully as the mabari that was lying by my feet tried to feign innocence. "But, you're right. It's best to just take this slow, one day at a time."

As I crouch down to Hunter's level to appreciatively scratch him between his furry ears, he nuzzles into my touch; happy and content as I reply in honest appreciation "You know, your mistress is quite a lucky woman to have you for a friend. You protect her and love her unconditionally. I can only hope to learn from your example."

As Elizabeth's beloved golden-brown mabari hound lets out a yip of agreement, I reply quietly as a yawn escapes me "Well, it's about time for me to hit the hay so I can be well-rested for our march back to Denerim. Good night, boy. I'll see you in the morning."

As I bid Hunter good night and make my way back to my tent, the constant reminder of being crowned the next king of Fereldan once again runs rampant through my mind, and I feel a block of ice form in the pit of my stomach.

Ah, the joy of being the illegitimate, second-born son of King Maric.

And if I wasn't already scared out of my mind about taking on this huge responsibility, how could I have forgotten the other responsibility that was expected of me once I ascended to the throne?

Producing a heir that would follow in my footsteps after I pass.

With the obvious fact that the darkspawn taint flowed wildly through our veins, I knew that this option might not be possible once I asked Elizabeth to marry and rule beside me as my queen.

But, of course, I couldn't help but to entertain the idea that in the slim to none chance that my bride-to-be could actually conceive, her belly would swell over nine long months as she carried my unborn child within her, and eventually, we would give birth to a healthy baby girl.

A daughter whom her mother and I would raise to become a fine queen in her own right before we pass to be at the Maker's side for the rest of eternity.

But, I knew that it was just wishful thinking on my part.

So, I suppose that if becoming king meant that I could listen to my beloved's charming laugh when I tell her stories of the misadventures that I would sometimes find myself in alongside my brothers-in-arms when I was young for the rest of my life, therefore making this entire ordeal less frightening for me, then I would brave it.

For her.

I would listen when she needed someone to vent her frustrations to.

I would comfort her when she cried, because no else would understand the pain and hardships of being a Grey Warden.

I would do anything that she would ask of me, simply because I love her.

And somehow, I was content with that decision.

* * *

 **The outfit that my Grey Warden is wearing is called the "Master Bard" if you're playing with mods on the PC version.**


End file.
